


Pray for the Wicked

by TheNumberFour



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, But unfortunately she goes through some shit first, Crime Boss!Lotor, F/M, Inspired by Six of Crows, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spy!Allura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-08-25 13:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNumberFour/pseuds/TheNumberFour
Summary: Allura is forced out onto the streets after her whole world is wrenched from her grasp. Determined to find and take down her parents' killer, she retreats to the slums where the gangs run wild. Instead she finds Lotor, a dangerous criminal boss whose plans just so happen to align with her own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! I've been itching to post this for just about ever. I've been in a kind-of writing slump lately, so my other fics are a bit slow-going (including this one, sorry), but this one has been especially nagging at me to post it. Hope you guys enjoy it!!!
> 
> WARNING: There are mentions of nonexplicit dubiously consensual sexual situations in this chapter.

Allura’s patience was probably her best quality. Her rage was likely her worst. And yet, they were both working in tandem to help her make it through each grueling day in the ruined streets of Drule City. Her mother and father had been murdered six months ago, and Allura had barely escaped with her life. She was alone on these streets, separated from Coran during the blaze that consumed her family’s home.

The last words he’d said to her rang in her ears.

_Princess, where are you going?_

The familiar nickname had brought a lump to her throat. It was a glimmer of familiarity as her world crumbled around her. She never gave Coran an explanation before she wrenched her arm out of his grip ran off into the night, tears making trails in the ash that clung to her cheeks.

 _Lay low. Keep quiet._ She ordered him. It was safer for him that way.

And she’d need to let everyone believe she was dead until she brought down whoever had done it. She knew it wasn’t an accident. She heard radio broadcasts saying that their house had had a gas leak, or faulty wiring. None of them seemed to either know or care about the three men Allura had seen just outside her window, the reek of gasoline that permeated her window before the house went up so rapidly.

She took to the slums, knowing that someone in Drule City’s underbelly could lead her to the men she’d seen.

The money she had grabbed from her bedside drawer ran low after only a few days, and she’d needed a job to replenish it. The seamstress’s shop was her first stop, but the woman turned her away because she already had an apprentice. She had no luck at the baker, who was already having trouble paying his current workers’ wages. There were especially no positions available at the docks. No one wanted to hire such a dainty-looking girl to do heavy lifting. Even when she proved that she could carry about as much as any man there, they scoffed, said she was only looking for trouble, and sent her away. Every place she visited had some excuse.

Every place but the brothel.

After several hungry days and nights spent searching for work and shelter, Allura caught a strong whiff of perfume as she passed a lavishly decorated building. She turned her head, taking in the sight of of the Arusian Juniblossom and hesitated, knowing exactly what she’d be getting into if she went inside. But if it got her food and cash, it would have to do.

“An Altean…” Said the woman who’d met her at the door, who looked more like a mixture of toad and lizard than she did a woman, as she circled Allura after the girl had meekly asked if there was work available. She caught Allura’s chin in her hand, jerking her face to the left and then to the right. “You’ll certainly fetch me a _very_ pretty penny.” The way the woman purred the word ‘very’ made Allura feel like she was caught in the constriction of a snake.

“Your name, girl?” The woman asked, though it sounded more like a demand than anything.

“A-um,” she hesitated. Should she give her real name? If someone truly wanted her dead alongside her parents, then taking that risk would most definitely be ill-advised. “Liana.”

“The lovely Liana.” The woman grinned. “Welcome to the Juniblossom.”

The woman, who introduced herself as Madam Ladnok, explained ground rules while she led Allura to her new room, already furnished, with silken sheets neatly dressing the bed. _The bed where she’d be entertaining guests,_ Allura thought with a poorly-masked shudder. Allura could move in as soon as possible since she had taken what little belongings she had from her room at the boardinghouse and brought them along. She didn’t have enough to pay for another night’s stay anyway.

When she set her bag down on the dresser, Madam Ladnok was still there, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“You’re a virgin.” She stated. It wasn’t a question, and Allura wasn’t surprised by that. She hadn’t been around the area for long and the air of innocence she exuded hadn’t had nearly enough time to dissipate. Going into this line of work, she supposed the topic would have to arise at some point.

Allura nodded, head ducked low. She hoped Ladnok wouldn’t peer past the brim of the cloche hat masking her face. She didn’t want Ladnok to see the tears welling in her eyes.

Allura couldn’t show weakness. She’d lost her whole world, and she wasn’t going to lose herself in this wretched one. She needed this to survive so she could

Ladnok grinned, and Allura didn’t like the look of the way her teeth glinted in the low light of her room. She looked like a wildcat who’d stumbled upon a lame deer.

Allura willed the tears not to fall. She’d never wanted her virginity stolen away by some stranger. She certainly hadn’t intended to be _working_ in a _brothel,_ and by choice no less. Any hopes and dreams she’d originally had for the future went up in flames along with her childhood home.

Allura cried frequently during the first month. She’d thankfully held it in for her first client. There would have been hell to pay if a customer paying top dollar to deflower her had to deal with a sniveling mess of emotions along with it. The rest of the girls warned her that any tears seen by any customers, especially high-paying ones, were grounds for beatings. When Allura’s first client came calling, an older man, thankfully not unpleasant-looking, the reality of the situation didn’t sink in until the tearing, biting pain pulsed up her spine. She was able to mask her moans as ones of pleasure, rather than of pain until the man left. She sunk down to her knees on the plush carpet and sobbed.

Allura wasn’t nearly in control of her emotions the next few times, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Some men, the most disgusting ones, delighted in her tears while they had her. Others complained to Ladnok, who punished Allura with a paddle and her meaty fists. Allura better learned how to mask her emotions after that, fighting through the pain and only crying when she knew the other girls were occupied or while she showered, where not even she could tell her tears from the water streaming down her face.

Six months in, though, was when the winds began to blow in Allura’s favor.

The very thing that pulled Allura out of her misery was her resolve to discover who had caused it. And the rumors floating around the Juniblossom helped her piece together a solid image of the gangs that ran rampant through the slums. There were the Balmeran Brutes, a rather small and quiet group, despite their frequent contributions to the black market. The Mer Eels kept more to the ports, and rumor had it they could get any type of illegal import past any rare authorities who happened to care. Olkari Nightshade usually modified weaponry, but also invented their own, which was a hot commodity down in the slums. Then there were the shadowy Blades of Marmora, and the only thing Allura learned about the secretive organization was that it existed at all.

The gang that eclipsed every single one of those small operations, however, was the Galra Gang. They were said to have infiltrated Drule City’s government and police force to the point where they practically ran the city. And with her father competing for power over Drule City, she wouldn’t be surprised if the Galra Gang saw fit to get him out of their way.

One day, Ladnok entered her room without knocking, as per usual, and told her to clean up, that an important guest with a taste for Alteans would be visiting the house tonight and that everything had to look pristine. Allura gulped. It must have been a very wealthy client if Ladnok was actually giving her that much notice. He’d arrive in an hour, meaning Allura didn’t have much time to prepare. Plaxum, the girl next door to Allura, helped her out with the cleaning in between her own appointments.

“Rumor has it The Prince himself has requested your time this evening.” Plaxum said, fluffing the pillows and smoothing down the silk sheets.

“The… Prince?”

“Lotor Sincline?” The other girl asked, checking to see if the man’s given name rang a bell.

She’d heard the name Lotor before, though she wasn’t sure where. It wasn’t what she’d call a common name. Perhaps one of the patrons she’d seen had mentioned it in passing. The surname, however, was completely foreign to her.

When Allura’s expression of confusion remained, Plaxum huffed, “What kind of sheltered life did _you_ lead, Liana?” _If she only knew,_ Allura thought. “He’s arguably the most powerful crime boss down here in the slums. He’s not the most prominent by far. He’s too new to the scene for that. But he’s certainly ruthless enough to be well on his way there.”

Allura’s head was spinning at the revelation. She would potentially have to satisfy one of the most dangerous criminals the city had to offer.

“Funny,” Plaxum continued, not noticing Allura’s horrified expression as she dusted off the boudoir, “I wasn’t aware that he even used pleasure houses himself. I see members of the Blades all the time, but never him.” Allura tilted her head up in understanding. The Blades were so secretive, it wasn’t surprising that Allura hadn’t heard of this Prince figure. Plaxum had ties to the Eels, though, so Allura could understand the girl’s deeper knowledge.

And what exactly did the revelation about this crime boss mean for Allura? That she’d have to lay back and be ravaged by a man whose appetites hadn’t been sated in stars knew how long?

Ladnok entered shortly after Plaxum had left, and nodded with grudging approval at the sight of Allura’s room, so clean that it looked as if it hadn’t ever been lived in.

“Wear something purple.” She demanded gruffly. “I’ve heard he’s partial to purple.”

The only purple clothing Allura owned, courtesy of Madam Ladnok, was a short silk nightgown, lined with black lace and ending at her upper thigh. It would definitely do.

At the exact time Ladnok had specified, there was a knock that sounded at Allura’s door. That in itself was unusual; clients never knocked.

Allura lowered her voice to a sultry level, “Come in.” She was posed on her side on the bed, one hand resting over her hip, while the other hand propped up her head.

The only word that came to Allura’s mind to describe the man that entered was ‘exquisite’. His long, flowing white hair was almost a match for her own. He was tall, _very_ tall, with a sharp jawline, an aristocratic nose, and warm brown skin. And when she was done looking him over, she was met with his piercing, deep blue gaze.

“You must be the prince I’ve heard so much about,” She breathed when he closed the door behind him, throwing in a small, suggestive smile for good measure. And despite how suavely she was acting now, her heart was pounding in her chest. The hand by her hip shook nervously, but Allura was able to mask it by toying with the lace hem of her shift, sliding it up to expose more of her smooth thigh.

Instead of striding over to her, as she predicted he’d do, he instead chose to stretch out in one of her loveseats.

“I’m not here for any form of debauchery, despite what you may have been told.” He said with a voice of pure velvet.

She froze, eyes wide. Then what could this crime lord possibly want from her?

“What do you know about the fire at your home?” The Prince asked.

“H-how did you –”

“You’re not as discreet as you’d like to believe, Allura.” He replied, using her real name. “When the home of one of the wealthiest families in this city burned to ashes, the report was that the daughter’s body was never found in the wreckage. And suddenly you appear, fresh-faced, soft-bodied, _Altean._ The connection wasn’t difficult for me to draw.” He said, almost sounding bored with the explanation.

Allura sat up, affronted.

“Moan.” He demanded. She opened her mouth to ask why, but he spoke before she could. “Don’t want Madam Ladnok to think you’re slacking with one of her most important clients.”

Allura let out a pathetic keen, somewhat embarrassed to just be making the sound for no reason.

He let out a loud growl, before lowering his voice, “Oh, come now,” he said, and she thought that his luxurious voice might actually make her, “Surely you can do better than that.”

She bit her lip, then let out a loud moan, shifting to knock her bed against the wall for added effect.

“So returning to my original question,” he drawled, eyes glinting, “what do you know about the fire?”

Why did he want to know? Was he asking because he was behind it? He would likely kill her for knowing too much. But if he was going to kill her, why would he do it so conspicuously? Everyone would know the way this little session ended. Lotor meeting with a living girl and leaving a dead one behind would be the simplest case the authorities in this city would ever encounter.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do I know you and your men weren’t behind it?”

“Before I explain, moan once more for me, darling.”

She glared at the request as well as the pet name, but obliged him. She poured a little more into that one, rolling her head back and letting out a wanton groan. It was probably the first time Allura felt that she’d rather engage in intercourse than in conversation. When she faced forward again, she noticed a pleased glint in his eyes. He did not respond with a heady snarl of his own, but with his answer to her question.

“You can trust that they were not my men. They were my father’s.”

“Your… father?” She asked, then steeled herself, getting back to the real matter at hand: the truth of The Prince’s statement. “Do you have any evidence?”

He stood, pulling some papers from a pocket within his suit jacket to hand to Allura.

“Only circumstantial, I’m afraid, but it’s rather damning.” He explained.  She took them with hands that she hadn’t realized were shaking so severely.

Transactions, she realized, and lots of them. Large ones to offshore accounts from Voltron Industries, her father’s company. The embezzlement was clear. Alfor had taught Allura enough about business to know that much. For a moment, her heart leapt to her throat. Her father couldn’t have… he couldn’t have done such a thing!

But none of the signatures on these transfer documents matched. Her father’s looping flourish was nowhere to be seen. On each line, there was instead a severe, zagging scratch. It was familiar.

She traced the signature, the wide, inky-black “Z” that began the name, and suddenly that very name formed on her tongue.

“Zarkon.” She whispered. Alfor’s business partner. The two were once like family. With that thought, though, one more connection was drawn.

“ _Lotor…”_ She knew now why his name sounded so familiar to her before. Lotor Daibazaal. Zarkon Daibazaal’s missing son. They’d played together when she was young, she remembered, hazy memories playing over in her mind. He was at least six years her senior. He’d gone missing when she was only a child of about five years old.

He didn’t explain how he was standing here right now or how he was still alive. The hard expression he’d adopted upon her realization told her he didn’t want to.

“Zarkon was funneling money out of our fathers’ company. My father discovered it and…”

“Zarkon needed to tie up loose ends.” Lotor finished.

“It seems you told me more than I could hope to tell you about the fire.” Allura said.

Lotor shook his head. “Not necessarily. I need more solid proof. Something that places one of his grunts at the scene. Did you _see_ anyone there?

“A man. Pale, tall, and wild-haired. Prosthetic metal arm. He had a tattoo,” She gestured to her forearm, “on his good arm.” She stood, grabbing a quill and a blank scrap of paper from the tiny desk. Allura was no artist, but she thought she did the shape justice. She’d seen it for a few moments under dim light but the sight of it was etched into her mind. It looked like an ‘X’ but the serifs were skewed into severe points.

“That’s the Galra Gang insignia. Those were my father’s men, undoubtedly.” And everything clicked. Zarkon led the Galra Gang. Her father’s _best friend_ and confidante. The man who had practically been her uncle had killed her family, had tried to kill _her._

She jumped at the sound of his voice, her back suddenly pressed up against his chest. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her to view her drawing.

Even through the padding of his dark blue suit, she could tell he was well-muscled. He barely moved when she jumped backward into him, except to catch her when she lost her balance out of surprise. She flinched at his touch, even though he was rather gentle as he set her back on her feet. She wasn’t often handled with care, not since she began her work at the Juniblossom.

He pulled his hands away at her wince and took a few steps backward.

They stood in silence for a moment. She could feel Lotor’s eyes roving up and down her frame. She shivered. Usually the room was warm and humid at this point in a session but instead she felt ice cold. The memory of the fire had soaked through to her bones as if it was a bucket of freezing water. Lotor’s piercing blue gaze didn’t do much to help.

Was this when he decided that she’d worn out her usefulness? When he decided that he would do exactly what Ladnok had charged him for?

“P-please.” She said, her voice cracking as it raised from a whisper. She surprised herself with the words. “Let me help you take him down. Please.”

The Prince rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he peered down at her, neither confirming or denying her request. “Another moan, Allura,” He said, sending shivers down her spine, “give a nice climax now.”

It was so rare that Allura was ever pushed over that edge, though she knew how to fake realistically enough for her clients. And when she let out a panting keen, face flaming at the feeling of Lotor’s unwavering stare, the man let out a snort. “Seems someone hasn’t been treated properly, but it’ll do.”

Allura was stunned at the comment. Her acting wasn’t _that_ bad, was it?

“Thank you for your assistance.” He said, looking in her mirror and tousling his hair to ensure he looked mussed enough to keep up the ruse. Allura began to fret at this. He wasn’t going to help her out of this. He’d used her for information and now he was going to leave her to rot here. She was used to being used by now, but physically, not mentally.

“Please.” She gave one final plea when his hand grasped the doorknob. “Consider my offer. I can help you.”

He didn’t say a word before opening the door and vanishing down the hallway. It slammed shut behind him with a hard bang and she sank to her knees, tears dripping from her chin onto her bare thighs. Just like that, she was alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura finds her way back to Lotor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: In this chapter, there are some brief mentions of non-consensual/dubiously consensual sexual situations. If that's not something you feel comfortable reading, I will be denoting where that begins and ends with "***" and can also include a short summary in the chapter's end note. This will be the last time any non-consensual activity happens. 
> 
> This chapter also contains Allura being a complete badass in the face of her horrible situation and managing to steal her own freedom.

In the days that followed her meeting with Lotor, Allura sulked during her spare time.

Lotor had given her more information than she could have dreamed, but what could she do about it from here? Her one chance at escaping this perfumed hellhole and taking down Zarkon had ultimately failed.

 _Zarkon_. He was like a second father to her.

Until he wasn’t. The story Lotor told her lined up with the memories of Zarkon disappearing completely from her life a few months back. Alfor was vague throughout the whole ordeal, and Allura could only gather information through Alfor’s exhausted mutterings.

Quintessence. The drug ran rampant through the Drule City streets like blood in human veins. And her father had been utterly disgusted with it in the months leading up to his demise. Now that she’d discovered Zarkon’s betrayal, she couldn’t help but think that quintessence was somehow related.

She needed to speak with Lotor again to find out more. All she needed to do was figure out where to find him.

At dinner one day, she began discreetly asking around about the Blades and their workings.

“Sounds like _someone’s_ pining for the Prince.” Said Nyma, one of her other neighbors. Allura blushed, but neither confirmed or denied her hunch. It was best to play coy. She couldn’t give away too much and risk Ladnok knowing.

“That good, huh?” Plaxum added.

Allura bit her lip, looking down at her fidgeting fingers. The other girls laughed, taking that as a yes.

“Well, if you want to send him some sort of message, you can always get Hunk to bring it along.” Plaxum said.

“Our chef?” Allura asked.

“Yeah, he’s with the Blades. Does a lot of special missions for one of their elite teams when he’s not making _delicious_ food.” Plaxum replied, punctuating the statement with a bite of steak and a pleased sigh at the flavor.

Allura excused herself, making her way in the direction the restroom but instead ducking into the kitchen’s side door.

The cook was there, clearing away the mess from today’s meal.

She cleared her throat and he jumped a bit, laughing as he realized that she meant no harm.

“Oh, hey. Allura, was it?” She nodded. “Everything okay with the food? Not _too_ spicy, I hope.”

“Oh, no, everything was lovely.” She said, and a big smile blossomed across his face. “I was just hoping you might be able to deliver a message for me.”

Hunk’s expression became serious, though a spark of curiosity shone in his eyes. “Is this regarding that visit you had from the big guy?”

She nodded again.

“I… need to know more. Please tell him I need to know more.” She said, wringing her hands together worriedly. “Let him know I would like to speak with him again.” Hunk nodded sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder.

“I’ll do my best.”

Several days later, she receives a note under her plate.

_Dayak’s Tavern at midnight._

With an address underneath, presumably of the location Lotor had specified in his sharp cursive.  

Allura wasn’t sure what to make of it. Part of it seemed like a test.

The girls of the Arusian Juniblossom were not permitted to roam the streets, for fear that they would either provide services for free or be forced to do so. Allura wasn’t afraid of that. Or rather, she was, but she couldn’t succumb to her fear if she was going up against a man as powerful as Zarkon.

Lotor had to know that Allura wasn’t permitted to leave. It seemed like he was saying, _if you can make it here, you’re worthy of more information._

Allura was worthy. She couldn’t afford not to be. But he certainly didn’t give her much time to prepare.

How could she leave without being noticed? Her old clothing had been taken and replaced with conspicuous silks and there were clients lined up for the entire day. And a plan began to form like frost on a frigid window.

***

Her 11:30 appointment entered right on time. She breathed out a heavy, shaky sigh before turning, smiling demurely, and taking him by the hand to guide him to the bed. Suddenly a hand was on her bottom, squeezing hard and trying to worm his way into more intimate places. Allura jumped in surprise and whirled around to face him, though it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. The man unzipped his pants and exposed himself with his free hand, sending her a lewd smirk for good measure.  Allura suddenly didn’t feel as nervous about this as she did when she developed her plan.

She reeled back and out of his grip in disgust, masking it all with a wink and a teasing giggle that she _hoped_ was convincing. The liquor bottle she’d hidden beside the bed was just within reach, but before she could grab it, he was upon her again.

He wasn’t the most ideal candidate. He was rounder in the middle, with legs far shorter than her own. Hopefully his belt had extra holes so the pants wouldn’t slide down as soon as she snuck out of the building.

She realized that the position may be beneficial; while he was distracted, she would be able to dispatch him. He sucked sloppily on her neck and unceremoniously squeezed her breast, but all the while she reached down to grope around her bedside for her stashed weapon. Soon enough, her fingers hit cool, smooth glass and wrapped around the neck of the bottle. With a grunt, then swung the heavy bottle over to knock against the back of his head. The dull _thud_ was audible, and thankfully the glass was thick enough not to break.

Allura darted out from beneath the man before he went fully limp. He was definitely unconscious.

***

She disrobed him before binding his hands and feet and gagging him, so that when he awoke he would not be able to alert Ladnok. The woman’s goons would be out looking for Allura as soon as possible if they found out.

The shirt and jacket were baggy and loose and so the pants hung loosely off her hips, stopping mid-calf. The belt didn’t fit well, but served to keep the pants secure enough. She grabbed the cap that had fallen from his head and tucked her conspicuous white mane up into it.

After tying her curtains together to fashion them into a rope, she tied one end to her bedpost and threw the rest out her window, praying she was a fast enough climber not to draw any attention.

And the moment her feet hit the ground, she was off running.

It was a miracle that she managed to find the place on time. She generally knew where her old boardinghouse was in relation to the Juniblossom and that Vrepit Street wasn’t too far away from it, but she couldn’t remember in which direction it was located. If she recalled correctly, it was north. She was right, and made it there with minutes to spare.

Lotor wasn’t there yet, so Allura started over to a table in the corner. Before she could sit, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She wrenched her arm away, turning on the person who’d touched her to see that it was an elderly woman.

Her jet black hair was firmly coiffed into points on either side of her head and the lines on her face were taut. She didn’t seemed fazed by Allura’s reaction.

“Are you the one meeting with Lotor?” She asked, though the woman’s tone was more demanding than anything.

“Yes.”

“Follow me.” The woman turned on her heel with military speed and sharpness and marched off to a curtain on the opposite side of the tavern.

Lotor was just inside, sipping idly at a glass of red wine.

An amused smile tugged at his lips at the sight of her, most likely because how she was dressed. The wine bubbled slightly as he tried and failed to hold in a snort.

She took a seat, glaring at him.

“I assume you’ll be needing protection once the man you dispatched is discovered?” Lotor said in lieu of greeting.

“Yes.”

“Good. I was looking to take you on as a Blade.” Her heart skipped at that. So it _was_ a test.

“Any particular reason why you threw this challenge at me?”

Lotor swirled the wine around in his glass before setting it down.

“Ladnok was not accepting any of my offers on your contract. That, and I needed to ensure you were up to the tasks I’ll need you for.”

 _Tasks like scaling buildings in the dead of the night?_ Allura thought to herself.

“The fact that you made it here without Ladnok’s men, or _any men_ for that matter, noticing is rather promising. Now that you’ve assaulted a patron and escaped, Ladnok will in turn value you less and loosen her grubby grip on your contract.”

The plan was brilliant, she had to admit. Giving her a limited time window so that her options were so drastically limited that she had no choice but to steal the first set of clothes she could find was just genius.

A glass of wine twin to his was set in front of Allura, and Lotor gestured for her to drink. Instead she stared at it for a bit before picking it up and sniffing it warily.

“I assure you, it is not another test.” Lotor says. She takes a tentative sip and is surprised at the tangy sweetness of it. She drinks a little more greedily before setting the glass down and asking him more questions.

“You mentioned tasks I would be doing in your employ. Care to elaborate?”

“I need a spider. A spy who can get me intelligence about Zarkon’s doings and plans.” Allura’s mind went numb at this, the words repeating over and over in her head. She wouldn’t _just_ be fighting against Zarkon, she’d be finding all of his weak points. It was more than she’d ever dreamed of.

Lotor wasn’t finished, however. “When I first visited you, my only intentions were to gather information. I was expecting some broken girl, driven to the brothel out of poverty and hopelessness. When I met you, I knew I had found a kindred spirit, someone aching to take down Zarkon nearly as much as I am. Someone with the fire and passion to help her accomplish anything. Who better to take on as my spy than the woman thirsting for as much knowledge about Zarkon as she can gather?”

Allura was silent, unsure of what to do or say now. She was elated, truly happy for the first time since her parents were killed. Finally she could do what she’d come here to do.

“Thank you.” She whispered, and when she felt the warm wetness streaming down her cheeks she was mortified. Her fingers moved frantically trying to remove it

“I’m… I’m sorry I’m just –”

“Quite alright.” Lotor interrupted her. “I recall what it felt like when someone finally extended a helping hand to me.” His voice didn’t betray any emotion, just the same formal tone he’d been using for the entire conversation.

“You’d better.” Dayak said, sticking her head into the room from the front.

Lotor rolled his eyes. Allura could only assume that Dayak had been the one to take him in after he… left? Was sent away? Allura still couldn’t piece together why Zarkon would send an eleven-year-old child to the streets. But she was tasked with finding out everything about Zarkon, which meant she might find out more about Lotor by extension.

“Do you need something, Dayak?” Lotor asked, almost sounding bored.

“Just letting you know the boys returned with her belongings. They say Ladnok’s not pleased.”

“I didn’t expect her to be.” Lotor sighed, rolling his eyes once more. This time, his lip curled in disgust. “I paid her price. But if she sends anyone I trust you to let me know.”

Dayak nodded and closed the curtain behind her.

“You’ll be staying here from now on. The Blades operate out of the buildings on this block. My room will be a floor up from yours in case you have any further questions. You’ll need to report there at seven AM sharp for your training for the next few weeks, and from then on you’ll bring your findings there after missions.”

“Training?” Allura thought the purpose of the challenge was to see if she was able to perform the tasks.

“Yes. I’ll need to train you personally if you are to make any headway against Zarkon. What you did tonight wasn’t nearly enough. You need to know what information I have and what I need as well as the skills you’ll need to obtain it.”

Allura looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling the ghosts of unshed tears sting in her eyes. She blinked them away with a sniffle and swallowed down the lump in her throat. Her chest burned with determination, the flames as hot as those that destroyed her life months ago. The ones Zarkon had set.

“I look forward to it.” She said, a victorious smile spreading across her lips.

Lotor’s brilliant white teeth glinted as he returned his own calculating grin.

 

* * *

 

 

Dayak led Allura to her room not long after. The sharp-nosed woman closed the door behind her and turned on her heel to face the girl.

Allura opened her mouth to ask what was happening before Dayak pulled a tape measure from her apron.

“Hold still.” The woman said. “Arms out.” Allura did as she was told.

“You don’t strike me as a person who would betray anyone.” Dayak said, measuring around Allura’s bust and then moving to her waist.

“Oh no, certainly not!” Allura said, shaking her head emphatically.

“Still!” Dayak said. Allura froze.

“I trust that you won’t share anything you were told tomorrow. Not even to anyone in the Blades.”

“I can keep any secret Dayak. I will not tell anything that Lotor has not permitted me to share. This mission is too important to me to worry about petty gossip.”

Dayak’s hands had moved to her inseam, measuring all the way down her leg. The tape snapped as the older woman pulled it closed. She stood up to her full height and eyes Allura, squinting down at the girl warily.

“And if you’re found and tortured? What then?”

Allura tilted her head up, sticking her chin out in defiance. “I just escaped six months of torture. You’d be surprised at my tolerance for pain.”

The hardness in Dayak’s gaze eased almost imperceptibly. Allura could have sworn she saw the corners of her lips twitch upward.

“We’ll see.” The woman said, before leaving Allura alone.

Her fingers found the lock to her bedroom door, and she relished in the sound of it sliding into place. She hadn’t been permitted to lock her door at the Juniblossom. For the first time in months, Allura would be able to sleep through the night. She shed her clothes; she’d burn that disgusting man’s garments when she got the chance. Unfortunately she’d have to deal with her underthings at another time, as the silks were the only clothing she presently had.

The sheets on her bed were coarse, and of a much lesser quality than the ones at the brothel, but she didn’t mind. It was her own bed; she didn’t have to share with anyone else if she didn’t choose to. And tomorrow would be the start of her new journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Allura asks the Juniblossom's chef, Hunk, to deliver a message to Lotor. Lotor tells Allura to meet at Dayak's Tavern on short notice. Allura dispatches a (gross) patron in order to steal his clothes and look less conspicuous in the streets of the city. This turns out to be a test from Lotor, who was looking to purchase Allura's contract from a difficult Ladnok anyway. Lotor wants Allura to be his spy and plans to train her the following day.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed! Leave a comment if you liked it! Comments give me life :)
> 
> You can also follow me on Pillowfort and Tumblr. My username on both is TheNumberFour

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it and let me know what you think!!  
> You can also follow me on tumblr @TheNumberFour :)


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